Home to Stay

  “Sure.” She watched as Sawyer crouched down and rubbed Darwin behind his ears, causing the dog to thump his tail against the ground. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  He glanced up at her with a pained expression. “I didn’t mean to be harsh with Dylan.” He resumed stroking Darwin. “I know I can’t keep him in a bubble, but I feel an overwhelming need to protect him from everything.”

  Shannon held his gaze as he stood up. “Darwin’s going to be fine with him. I promise. Dylan met him before, remember? But that’s not what I meant. When I got here, you seemed...preoccupied.”

  “Did I?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Yes, you did.”

  He nodded slowly. “Hmm. Maybe I was. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ll be a welcome distraction for both of us—although I might not be the greatest company right now.”

  “We can’t always be at our best. Don’t worry about it.”

  He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  That simple gesture started the butterflies fluttering in her belly again, and she nearly forgot what she’d been saying. “Is everything okay with Dylan?” she persisted.

  “We had an appointment with his therapist today,” Sawyer began. “She’s worried about Dylan withdrawing. Also, Dylan’s been asking about the Sanchez woman again—about ‘tía.’” He glanced toward the house just as Dylan was opening the patio door. “You’re sure Darwin will be okay with him?” he asked hurriedly. “I can’t have anything else happen to him.”

  “Positive,” Shannon replied and turned her attention to the boy, as he approached them. “Hey, Dylan, would you like to see Darwin show off some of his skills?” When Dylan nodded, she ran Darwin through a couple of drills, which he executed flawlessly. “For his final trick, I need something that belongs to you,” she said to Dylan.

  He looked down at himself.

  “Use your sneaker,” Sawyer suggested.

  Dylan sat down on the grass to pull off a shoe.

  “I just need one,” Shannon explained when he was about to remove the second sneaker.

  Dylan rose and brought her the shoe.

  She signaled for Darwin to sniff it, but didn’t take it from Dylan. “Darwin and I are going to go through the gate. I want you to hide the sneaker somewhere in the backyard so we can’t see it. Walk around a bit before you hide it.”

  “Okay, but what will he do?”

  “When you’re done, you’ll call us back, and Darwin will find your sneaker.”

  “No way!”

  “Yup. You’ll see.”

  Shannon led Darwin through the gate, and waited until Sawyer called them. She latched the gate behind her and was about to take Darwin off lead but paused. “Is it okay if I let him loose?” she asked Sawyer.

  “I trust you,” he said, and held out his hand for Dylan to join him. That trust, where it concerned his son, meant a great deal to her. She unclipped Darwin’s leash and instructed him to find the shoe. Darwin did a quick zigzag, ending up at the playset Sawyer had been staring at when she arrived.

  “Go get it,” Shannon encouraged the dog. Darwin scaled the three-foot-high plastic ladder leading to a small tree-fort type of enclosure.

  “Darwin can climb!” Dylan exclaimed.

  A moment later Darwin leaped out with Dylan’s shoe in his mouth.

  To the sound of Dylan’s excited giggles, Darwin streaked over to Shannon, plopped down in front of her and dropped the shoe at her feet. “Great job, Darwin. Take a bow,” she said and had the dog stretching his front paws forward, lowering his head to the ground, his rear end in the air.

  Shannon gave Darwin a hand signal and he rolled over, ending in a down position. “Look sorry,” she told him.

  Darwin stretched out his front legs, rested his head on the grass between his paws and looked up at her with eyes that could melt anyone’s heart.

  She crouched down, and stroked his head as she glanced up at Sawyer.

  He had a smile on his face. “That’s some repertoire.”

  “Would you like to say hi to Darwin now?” she asked Dylan.

  “Uh-huh,” he said, tugging his hand away from Sawyer’s.

  Although Darwin didn’t need it, Shannon gave him a signal to reinforce the stay command. Then she held one hand out for Dylan’s. The feel of his little hand in hers made everything inside her go soft and warm, as she showed him how to let Darwin become familiar with his scent. “Would you like to pet him now?” she asked.

  Dylan nodded, smiling as he stroked Darwin’s head. “He’s so soft!”

  Basking in the attention, Darwin nuzzled Dylan.

  “It tickles!” Dylan said amid another fit of giggles. As the dog kisses slowed, Dylan wrapped his arms around Darwin’s neck and hugged him.

  Shannon rose and walked over to Sawyer. She thought back to the comment he’d made about Dylan. At that moment, she couldn’t detect any reservation in the boy. He seemed happy. Joyful. “You said you were worried about Dylan withdrawing,” she said quietly. “I’m not a therapist, but I don’t see it.”

  “This is the most animated I’ve seen him since you brought him home,” he said. “You have no idea how much it means to me, to hear him laugh in such a carefree way.” He touched Shannon’s arm. “Thank you for this.”

  “I’d like to take credit, but it has more to do with Darwin than me.”

  As if to prove her point, Dylan and Darwin collapsed to the ground together in what appeared to be a little lovefest, with the eighty-pound dog trying to climb onto the boy’s lap. Sawyer chuckled as Dylan reversed their positions, tumbled over the dog and squealed in delight.

  Shannon considered her own comment about Dylan’s mood having to do with Darwin. Dogs could be miracle-workers, therapists, friends and companions all in one furry package.

  She glanced at Sawyer again. “Has Dylan ever had a dog?”

  “What? No. Dylan and I talked about it, but it was too much after...”

  Shannon knew he meant after his wife had disappeared, and nodded her understanding.

  She looked back at boy and dog as they wrestled on the grass. She saw how Darwin was being with Dylan, instinctively aware that he had to be careful. He seemed to be doing wonders for the boy.

  “We should get dinner started,” Sawyer said, interrupting her thoughts. “I don’t want to keep Dylan up too long past his bedtime.”

  Sawyer put the steaks on the grill and added a burger for Dylan. He offered Shannon a drink and she chose a glass of wine. Sawyer left her in the kitchen while he went back outside to check on the steaks.

  Taking a sip of her wine, she gathered the fixings for her spinach dip from her cooler bag, which Dylan had placed on the counter. Humming, she cut the broccoli and cauliflower into bite-size chunks. She popped a cherry tomato in her mouth as she arranged the vegetables on a serving platter she’d found in a cupboard. She mixed the dip and tested it with a baby carrot. Mmm...

  She made an excellent dip, even if she did say so herself. She hunted up a serving dish, filled it with the dip and positioned it in the center of the platter.

  Pleased with the arrangement, she picked up the platter and turned around.

  Seeing Sawyer standing in the open doorway, his shoulder resting against the doorjamb, she nearly let the platter slip out of her hands.

  It wasn’t that he’d startled her.

  At least not just that.

  He had the whole lanky, casually sexy thing going for him, but there was something...indefinable about him that made her heart race.

  Sawyer pushed away from the doorjamb. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  She took a couple of deep breaths and followed him out to the patio.

  They ate the veggies and dip, and once Dylan had e
nough he ran off to play with Darwin. While the meat cooked, Sawyer poured himself a glass of wine. Shannon declined a top-up, since she was driving.

  When they were almost ready to eat, Sawyer called Dylan, telling him to wash his hands. With only a mild complaint that he couldn’t keep playing with Darwin, he did as he was told.

  The steak was delicious, and Shannon had no trouble finishing it all. After the dishes were cleared, Sawyer turned to her. “Will you wait until I help Dylan get ready for bed?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  Dylan hugged both her and Darwin before going inside with his father.

  Shannon sat at the patio table, sipping the last of her wine, watching fireflies twinkle and listening to the cicadas hum. She smiled again when she heard Sawyer’s murmur, followed by Dylan’s laughter, drifting down from the open bedroom window above her. She reached over to stroke Darwin, who was stretched out beside her.

  She was in a dreamy, contented state when Sawyer returned, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, a small pitcher of milk and a sugar bowl. He’d brought matches, too, and lit the fat candle that sat in the middle of the table.

  Under the black-velvet sky, in the flickering candlelight, with music—something soft and romantic—drifting through another open window, and the sweet scent of gardenia and frangipani all around her, she watched him.

  He pulled up a chair next to her and took her hand.

  “I’m glad you’re here. Dylan enjoyed himself, too. Sorry for taking so long to get him settled, but it’s your fault.” He gave her a rueful smile. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you and Darwin.”

  “He’s a terrific kid.”

  “Yes, he is.” At Sawyer’s soft laugh, Darwin scrambled up to a sitting position. “I can’t believe the difference in him tonight.”

  Shannon leaned back, stroking Darwin’s head, and focused on the bright pinpricks of stars for a few minutes. Sawyer’s last comment had sounded solemn. It brought back the way he’d been when she first arrived. “Dylan seemed happy. Not withdrawn at all.”

  Sawyer shifted his body toward her. Lowering his gaze to their joined hands, he ran his thumb across her knuckles. “He did, didn’t he? Like I said, that’s the most...cheerful I’ve seen him since...” The words trailed off.

  “But that’s a good sign, isn’t it?” she asked, not wanting him to slip into a melancholy mood again. “An indication that he’s healing?”

  “It’s nice to see that he still has the capacity for joy and playfulness.” Sawyer stared up at the sky. “But I don’t know how much of it is healing and how much of it is Darwin bringing out the young boy in him.”

  “Dogs are wonderful for therapy.” Shannon really did believe in the power of dogs. “They’re often used to help post-traumatic stress disorder patients. I’m sure you know they’re even used in courtrooms to help children who are testifying feel more at ease.”

  Sawyer nodded.

  “Why not get him a dog?” she asked suddenly. “If a dog would make him happy, perhaps take his mind off things, why not?”

  “I don’t think—” He took a deep breath. Lifted his face up to the star-speckled sky again. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” He turned back to Shannon. “If after sober second thought I decide to do it, would you come with us? Help us get the right dog for Dylan?”

  She smiled. “I’d be happy to, on one condition.”

  He raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “The dog has to be a rescue.”

  “A rescue it is. It has to be small, though. And not shed...too much.”

  Shannon shrugged, but had her own notions. “We’ll see about the rest,” she said cryptically.

  “We’ll see,” he echoed and leaned slowly toward her.

  Shannon closed her eyes and a tingling sensation flowed over her skin as Sawyer’s lips touched hers.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HI, DAD,” DYLAN greeted Sawyer, as he walked into the kitchen, Joey tucked under one arm.

  “Hey, champ. Did you sleep well?” Sawyer hoped so; at least, he hadn’t heard him tossing with nightmares.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Sawyer bent down to receive the hug Dylan offered.

  “Did you have a good time last night? With Shannon and Darwin?”

  “Yeah! I like Darwin...and Shannon. They’re nice.”

  Sawyer was delighted that the liveliness and joy Dylan had shown the evening before seemed to have carried through to morning. “You and Joey ready for breakfast?” he asked, reaching for his coffee.

  “Yeah. Joey wants Froot Loops. Please.”

  “Okay. Have a seat.”

  Sawyer turned to pull out a stool for Dylan...and the breath clogged in his throat. He blinked a couple of times, to be certain he hadn’t imagined it.

  “What’s that you’ve got there, champ?”

  “Huh?” Dylan asked, as he scrambled up onto the stool by the kitchen island.

  “That.” Sawyer pointed to the chain Dylan clutched in his hand.

  “Oh.” Dylan held up the chain, the all-too-familiar locket dangling from it. “Joey had it in his pouch.”

  “Dylan,” Sawyer said in as controlled a voice as he could manage. “Do you remember the talk we had about always telling the truth?”

  “Uh-huh.” Dylan’s bright smile dimmed and Sawyer was sorry about it, but he was more concerned about where Dylan had gotten the locket.

  “Well, then?”

  “I am telling the truth, Daddy!”

  Dylan looked genuinely confused, but Sawyer couldn’t let this go.

  “Dylan?”

  “It was in Joey’s pouch, Daddy.” Dylan shoved his fist clutching the chain, toward his father.

  Sawyer went over to Dylan, every step a struggle, as if he was wading through molasses. He’d thought he would never lay eyes on that locket again. “May I see it?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Sawyer gently took the locket from his son’s hand and opened it with infinite care.

  And there it was. Nestled inside the heart-shaped sterling-silver locket.

  The picture of Jeannette, Dylan and him. Taken the day Dylan was born. Nearly a year before Jeannette disappeared.

  Sawyer had expected to see the picture, since he’d recognized the locket, but the shock of it still shocked him to the core. Keeping his gaze on the photograph, he felt as if he’d aged a lifetime in the span of a heartbeat.

  His wife...his high-school sweetheart, the love of his life...stared back at him from the heart-shaped locket.

  There was a raging tornado inside him, his thoughts and emotions caught in its eye.

  He paced the length of the kitchen and back. He squatted down in front of his son.

  “Where did you find this, Dylan?”

  Dylan touched the locket with a finger. “It’s pretty,” he said.

  Sawyer took his son’s hand to keep him from clasping the necklace again. “Yes, it is, but where did you get it?”

  “It was in Joey,” he said. “I forgot I put it in his pouch. I remembered this morning!”

  How on earth would he have gotten it? Jeannette had never taken that locket off from the day he’d given it to her. He assumed she’d been wearing it when she disappeared, because he hadn’t seen it since. Was it possible that she’d removed it? Or it had fallen off somewhere in the house and Dylan had found it?

  “I want it, Daddy,” Dylan insisted.

  “Please,” Sawyer corrected automatically. “How about if I keep it for now? Would that be okay?”

  Dylan’s lips formed a pout. “But the lady gave it to me.”

  “What lady?” Sawyer hadn’t intended to raise his voice, and he immediately clamped down on his emotions. “Sorry, champ. What lady gave
it to you?”

  “Tía.”

  “The lady in the apartment with you? Juanita?”

  “Nuh-uh. The other lady.”

  Sawyer’s blood ran cold. “What other lady?”

  “The one who took me to tía,” Dylan repeated.

  Not Juanita Sanchez, then, but the woman who brought Dylan to her. The woman who’d abducted him?

  Sawyer’s mind was racing. The fact that it was a woman didn’t surprise him. They knew that. It was a woman who’d contacted Sanchez, and Dylan had confirmed that it was a woman who’d taken him to her. He’d described her to the best of his ability to the police. But how could that woman have had Jeannette’s locket? What was the connection? Sawyer wasn’t inclined to start interrogating Dylan right now. Especially after the positive mood he’d been in the night before.

  But the police had to know about this. Then he felt an ice-cold chill. Was it possible that the locket had never left Jeannette’s possession? That she was alive and had something to do with Dylan’s abduction?

  No, that was too dreadful to contemplate. But what else could it be?

  “Okay, Dylan. Have your breakfast now, and we’ll talk about this later.”

  After Dylan had finished eating, Sawyer got him settled in his room and called the detective in charge of the investigation. Bigelow was very interested in this new development and said he’d be over within the hour.

  “Do you think I should see if I can arrange to have Dylan’s therapist here?” Sawyer asked.

  “That’s your call, but I plan to bring someone from Victim Services to help. The person I’m thinking of, if she’s available, specializes in working with kids in these types of situations.”

  “Okay. Good.” Sawyer felt relieved, since he doubted Dr. Gleason would’ve been available on such short notice. If he saw any adverse reaction from Dylan, he’d just bring the discussion to an end.

  Just as Sawyer concluded the call, Dylan wandered back out of his room, Joey under his arm. Sawyer turned on the television for him. Then he called Shannon.